I woke up this morning and listened to the wind blow. It’s howling out there. It took me more than two hours to crawl out of bed. I couldn’t think of a good reason to actually budge. It’s Christmas, my least favorite holiday. Christmas. The day that reminds me my family is disjointed and I have no actual family of my own. It wouldn’t be so bad if every shop and restaurant weren’t closed. It makes me wish I had gone to the grocery store yesterday.

So, yeah. I’m not a fan. And I tell people I don’t love Christmas, but I can’t bear to tell them why. I hate the looks of pity that come back at me when I tell them Christmas makes me feel alone. So I tell them it’s not my favorite holiday, they usually assume it hasn’t something to do with how over commercialized it is, and we all stay comfortable in our bubbles.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that story of lost friendship I mentioned in my last post. And I’ve realized something. You see, I said that I did something that was cold and heartless. Well, distance illuminates my mind on the matter. What I did was not cold or heartless at all. What I did was right and needed and necessary. What I did was long over due. Yes, it was rash and done when angry. That part I don’t like. But, dammit, there was nothing wrong with it, and I don’t feel the least bit bad. I told the truth to someone that needed to hear it. I was honest. And not in a subjective, giving my opinion kind of way. I stated facts. Those facts were difficult to swallow. But they were facts, nonetheless. I value honesty and truth in my life, and I upheld that value. And if someone else is going to end a friendship or get angry because I was honest, well…

Fuck ’em.

I’m serious. No one like that deserves my empathy.

I’m doing my absolute best to turn over a new leaf on this one. It’s a new day. I am no longer weighed down by silly stuff that doesn’t matter. Easier said than done, yes. There will be difficult days and hard moments, and I’ll likely lose my focus at times. But that’s okay and to be expected. What I plan to do now is focus on those things I can control. I’m going to focus on the good with as much gusto as I possibly can. I’m going to focus on joy, and I’m going to squeeze every bit of joy I possibly can out of this coming year. Why? Because I’ve been down for far too long. And it’s time to get back up and smile.

Have you ever felt your chest squeeze so tight that your heart skips a beat and your lungs grasp for air at the same time? Have you ever felt like you were drowning? You look up to see the water swirling around you, the glimmer of light above you, all the while the surface being pulled from your vision with the force of a hurricane? Have you ever felt you were going to die? That you might like it? A welcome respite from the pain you’ve endured.

I wrote that several years ago as an intro to a story I was writing. I stumbled across it this morning as I searched for a file to send to a friend. It struck a chord. Why? Because I can relate.

Wow. Where do I even start with this one? I did something last night that was petty, and cold, and heartless. It was hurtful and hateful and cruel. And every cell in my body screamed for me to do it. And I think it was the right thing. Except, I shouldn’t have done it in that way, I shouldn’t have done it in anger. I should have been strong enough to do what I needed to do for myself without affecting someone else. But I wasn’t. And I did it the way that I did it. I’m not proud. I’m not happy. But I do feel a strange sense of relief. I can finally move on.

Last night, I destroyed a friendship. I destroyed a friendship that was dear to my heart. I hurt someone that I love. That I really, truly love. I destroyed that friendship with the truth. They say the truth will set you free. And, yes, yes it will. But sometimes that freedom is to cut all ties, to break invisible chains. And, sometimes, that freedom brings sadness. That freedom leaves you alone with your thoughts because there is no longer anyone to share them with. And that freedom breaks your heart. And someone else’s.

I’m not ready to share details about this one. I will one day. I don’t want to bury it and keep it to myself (something I’m so freaking good at doing). But I do need a bit of distance from it before I tell the story. I need to see it a bit more objectively and with a little less passion.

Passion is good sometimes. Passion is good in business and creativity and work. Passion is good when making love. Passion is good when chasing dreams. But passion is not always good when speaking of matters of the heart. Because it destroys vision. It fogs clarity. And it puts forth words that can’t be taken back. So I’ll take a little distance. And then I’ll tell the story.

It seems that every few months I get on here and write a post about how I’m aching to return to my writing roots. And then I disappear.

I’ve been thinking a lot about why it’s been so difficult for me to keep up with the blog this past year or so. And partly, the answer is logistical — I’m tired, I have a lot of other projects in the works, my eyes hurt from too much time spent on the computer, and there are simply not enough hours in the day. But there’s a bigger part that I’ve been attempting to avoid. The part where I don’t know that I want to share my personal musings with the world anymore. The part where I haven’t been feeling as joyful as I was just a few short years ago. And it’s been a bit of a struggle. And my stories have felt intensely personal. And despite all the work I’ve done to be more open, I still live a rather guarded life, which few actually enter in a meaningful way.

But the writing is such an outlet for me. The sharing. The stories. It’s been a beautiful record of my life. If I remember correctly, I started this blog around 2009. So much has been recorded in that time. Then, a few years ago, I removed many of the personal stories. I’m a teacher. My students had stumbled upon my blog. Several started following along. I somehow felt the compulsion to pull back. It’s funny because the response from my students was quite heartfelt — those that read entries were sweet and supportive, and they really enjoyed it. I don’t know why I felt I had to remove pieces. I think I should have left them. But I didn’t. I still have the file of old entries. Perhaps I will find a way to reload them to the site (one of these days when I actually have a bit of free time).

Long story short, I have realized I love this website and blog as it was originally meant to be — a personal collection of my life, hodgepodged and pieced together as it is. I have no plans to post any of these writings to social media. I have no plans to make a plan for how often I will write or what I will write about. This blog isn’t for a specific audience. This blog is for me. It was always meant to be that way.

If you stumble upon my writing and something resonates with you, I welcome emails and hellos. I welcome friend requests on FB from kindred souls. I’ve chosen not to open comments because I don’t want to think about them. I don’t want the possibility of comments to stop me from writing what strikes me in the moment. If I know you personally, I hope you understand that I don’t really want to talk about my writing. Writing is therapeutic to me. It’s my outlet. And, yes, I choose to do it in a rather public manner. I can’t really explain that because I’ve tried writing in journals, and I quite hate it. It’s like — I want to know that someone is reading my words; I want to know that I’m not writing to an abyss of empty pages in a book no one will read.

So there it is. A return to the written word. A return to the therapy of my past that I loved ever so much. 2015 is almost here, and I plan to make it a year full of self-care rituals. A year seeking peace and contentment. A year that includes writing. And putting that thought to paper kind of makes my heart smile right now. I think this is a good thing. I think this is a very good thing.

I feel like this is a good time to evaluate my intentions for 2014 and see how it’s all going. You may recall, at the beginning of the year, I spent time figuring out my plans and determining my top five priorities (you can check out that post here). In the next several days, I plan to go through each of those priorities and really put some thought into where I’m at. Today, I’m focusing on this one.

Be Loving: learn to love without expectations and lose the fear of showing that love.

Oh, wow, this is a big one. And probably the one I have absolutely struggled with the most this year. I knew it would be difficult. I’m not sure I knew just how difficult it would be. You see, the hardest thing is the “without expectations” part. I mean, really, is there much of anything we ever do without expectations…zero, zilch, nada? Um. I’m going to take a wild guess and say no.

But I felt this challenge was uber important. For one, when I love people, I’m sometimes afraid to show it, and I don’t like that about myself. We should all be able to express love for another person without being concerned about how that might be perceived. Besides, we all love to be loved. So perhaps we should start by being loving ourselves. For two, when it comes to love, I am riddled with expectations. Sometimes those expectations are for the person I love to act or respond in a certain way. Often those expectations are that I’m going to be let down. Yes, expecting to be let down is an expectation. Unfortunately, my expectations of being let down often stop me from really expressing myself, from taking chances or even from allowing myself to enjoy the moment I’m in. Because if I enjoy it too much, the let down might be that much worse. (I know, my crazy head.)

Wouldn’t it be amazing if we all just loved the shit out of the people in our lives, no apologies, no expectations, and just let them be exactly who they are? Wouldn’t it be awesome if we all just said, “Hey, you don’t have to do anything for me. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be anything but you. And I think that’s worth loving?” Wouldn’t it be perfect if the people you loved weren’t capable of letting you down because you simply didn’t expect anything from them? Because I think that would be freaking cool.

I’ve been working on myself with this goal. And, let me tell you, it is a work in progress. I have to remind myself of this priority at least once a week. Lately, even more often. It’s kind of a daily thing. Express love. No expectations. Express love. No expectations. It’s sort of my mantra. And I’ve been making progress. I’ve come a long way, for reals. I say things I once would never have said. I express my feelings with less hesitation. It’s hard work! But it’s getting easier. I can tell you, I will not be perfect at this by the end of the year. It may always be a struggle.

But, in my eyes, this is one struggle that is totally worth the effort.

And I challenge you: attempt to do this yourself. Attempt to love those around you without trying to fit them into some box you want them to fit in. Attempt to tell them how you feel every chance you get. Just love the shit out of everything, and don’t apologize for it.

Heather Rae

Photographer. Traveler. Storyteller. On the adventure of a lifetime. I'm a fan of running in mud, long conversations in little cafes, climbing mountains, watching waves. What's In Search of Squid? Quite simply, my quest to have it all.

Contact

I would love to hear from you. Questions, comments, requests, rants. Send them my way! Please come visit my new website at heatherraemurphy.com for contact information.